


A Happy Ending for a Death Eater

by whitherwaywill



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, Angst, F/M, Gen, Hermione Granger Bashing, How Do Tags Work?, Quidditch, Romance, dancing in fountains, fair warning, hermione is NOT a protagonist, quiet draco, seeker astoria, unfortunately
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-02-24 18:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22042342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitherwaywill/pseuds/whitherwaywill
Summary: After the war, Draco throws himself into his work, determined that his only purpose is providing for his mother, now that his father is gone. But his mother has other plans...and they include matchmaking for her son. When a younger girl catches Draco’s interest, he begins to wonder - can a Death Eater have a happy ending?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Astoria Greengrass, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51





	1. Prologue: The End

**Author's Note:**

> repost from ff.net - I am whitherwaywill over there :)

Silence has a weight - an empty, quickly thickening presence. Draco’s jaw ticked. The small, windowless room was barely large enough for one person, let alone three. He stood back, against the wall, a chill from the stone seeping through his coat and soaking into his skin. 

In front of him, his mother clasped his father’s hands tightly across a small table. They stared at each other, each absorbing the other’s presence. Every so often, Lucius would glance at his son, but Draco refused to meet his eyes. 

"I'm sorry."

Lucius broke the strained silence with those two words.

"I am so sorry that I have not been more of a father to you, Draco, or more of a husband to you, Narcissa - "

"No, Lucius, you're wonderful, you've done everything - "

"I could have been better, my love. I do love you. I haven't said that enough. I love you. Both of you." Lucius' eyes glittered, and it might be suspected that a lesser man might have been crying by now.

Draco stood, still as a statue. It felt like a dream…it all had, ever since Potter had sent the Dark Lord's own curse back at him. Now his father was going to die. He had been given a choice, after he had been found guilty at his trial. He was going to be given the Dementor’s Kiss. After that, it was his choice whether the shell of who he used to be lived, or died. He chose to be executed after the Kiss. This was the last time Draco would see his father.

Lucius’ prison clothes didn't cover his Dark Mark. Draco studied it, knowing he had the twin under the long-sleeved robes he had taken to wearing lately. The wizards and witches who hissed and spit at him on the streets couldn't care less that all three of the Golden Trio had vouched for him at his trial. He had been the only full Death Eater pardoned. His mother, who some called guilty by association, had been pardoned by Potter himself. Now, as his mother silently wept and clutched Lucius' hand across the table, he couldn't bring himself to feel anything. He had been so full of anger, of fear, but now? He might as well have been empty.

"Time's up," a human guard said, face and tone grim. "You are to be escorted out, Mrs. Malfoy, Master Malfoy."

Lucius reached a hand to Draco. "Son," he said. Draco grabbed his hand. "Don't let my foolish prejudices limit you. You were forced into this. I truly am sorry for that. Survival was key, and it seemed that was the way to keep you and your mother alive. I can tell…" Lucius paused, swallowing. "You are harsher on yourself than others are, Draco. Forgive yourself. Please. Take care of your Mum. And be happy."

Draco turned away.

"Ma'am-Sir…" The guard was more insistent this time.

Narcissa swallowed a sob, making a gasping noise, then leaned across the table and kissed Lucius passionately.

"I love you, Lucius, I love you," she sobbed. Calming a bit, she continued, grabbing his hand like a lifeline, holding Draco in the other. "One day, I will be with you again. I promise."

Lucius smiled slightly. "I will wait, my love."

Narcissa nodded, holding back more tears. With one last look at Lucius, his wife and son left.

Two hours later, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy had passed on into another life.

Draco Malfoy had been sixteen when his father had forced him to take the Mark. Now, almost two years later, his father and the Dark Lord were both dead, and he was free.


	2. matchmaker, matchmaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match...

Draco walked out of Gringotts, a full purse in his pocket. The last three years had passed quietly and without event, thank god. Draco had had enough excitement in his life, and his father’s death had been the cherry on top. He tried not to think of Lucius, throwing himself into the family business. Draco had no intention of letting himself, or his mother, decline into poverty, despite all of the reparations they were required to pay after the war.

Across the street, Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes was having a busy day. The shopkeepers worked hard, and Draco caught a glimpse of the Chosen One himself, with his little brat. 

Potter had thrown himself headlong into life after the war, taking an influential post in the Auror Department at the Ministry, and marrying his little girlfriend, the Weaslette. Not that Draco has sought this information out; quite the opposite. It was just difficult to miss, seeing as the Potters were still media sweethearts even years after the war. 

So much of their school years had been filled with animosity. Now, Harry Potter had probably saved Draco’s life in more than one way. Draco owed him, and stubbornly treated him with politeness and courtesy. Potter, the blood traitor, Ms. Granger-Weasley, all three. 

Despite his determination to be cordial, Draco did not seek Potter out. He turned away from the joke shop and headed toward a shop filled with exquisite collectibles that Narcissa called ‘delightful’. 

Yesterday had been the anniversary of Lucius’ death. They could both do with some ‘delight’.

For a year after Lucius passed, Narcissa had been in deep mourning, barely responsive. Now, she was recovering, hosting parties and helping to reinstate the Malfoy name. Draco had done his best to make the business respectable, and despite the family’s questionable past, everyone wanted something. Usually something money could buy.

Draco pushed these thoughts aside, and with a deep breath, entered the shop.

He managed to get through his purchase without cursing the obsequious shopkeepers, who couldn’t decide whether they were proud to have the patronage of a Malfoy, or to cringe away from the almost-convicted Death Eater. It was something he was used to; at least people weren’t spitting on him in the streets anymore. 

Still, it was a relief to apparate back to Malfoy Manor. He could safely rely on his home being spit-free. 

Draco entered the Manor through one of the side doors. Even so many years later, he couldn’t walk through the front. An elf popped into existence as soon as he was through the door, scurrying over to take his coat.

“Thank you, Dilly,” Draco said distractedly.

“Dilly is happy to be of service, Master. Mistress says tea is to be in the garden today. She is there now.” The house elf bowed.

“I will be right there. I bought these- things…” Draco wasn’t sure exactly what they were, but Narcissa liked the glass and metal baubles. “Could you see that my mother gets them, later today?”

“Yes, Master. Will you be needing something more?”

“No, thank you, Dilly.” Draco left the elf behind. He pushed his shoulders back as he made his way through the house and towards the gardens, avoiding the main hall. And the dining room. Too many bad memories, no matter how many times his mother redecorated and refurbished. He wandered into the solarium, then through to the garden. 

Narcissa was sitting with her back to him in the gazebo. And - he might be wrong, he was so far away - but it looked like she had guests.

Draco strolled down the garden path, every inch the young, privileged head of the family. He put on the role he played for his mum’s aristocratic friends like an old coat, one that doesn’t quite fit anymore, but you can’t get rid of because of its sentimental value. Reaching the gazebo, he lithely sprang up the steps.

“Mother,” he greeted her, kissing her cheek.

“Draco dear, how nice of you to join us. This is Mrs. Greengrass, and her delightful daughter, Astoria.”

Draco bowed to both of them. “Wonderful to make your acquaintance.” His gaze skipped over them, unwilling to make more than a perfunctory observation. The Greengrasses were old family friends - Daphne, the elder daughter, had been in his class at Hogwarts, and he vaguely remembers Astoria as one of the younger Slytherin students at Hogwarts. 

She’ll have to forgive him if his memory is a little spotty where she’s concerned. He was a little preoccupied those last few years. 

“I am happy to meet you at last, Draco. Your mother has been telling us such stories,” Mrs. Greengrass simpered.

“Nothing bad, I hope,” Draco said, with a smirk.

“Oh no, all things good, I assure you. Astoria has been quite fascinated by the stories of your Quidditch shenanigans.”

Draco nodded. “I find I miss the sport sometimes.”

“Won’t you join us, Draco? We have an extra chair,” Narcissa said.

 _Oh yes, how convenient_ , Draco thought _. She was expecting me_. Worried, his gaze darted toward Astoria. 

His mum, when she was just coming out of mourning for Lucius, had tried to arrange marriages for him with quite a few women. Draco had shut that down after some disasters. Most notably, when he had managed to send one old biddy into a heart attack when he had ‘made presumptions’ about her granddaughter. 

She had been excessively sheltered, and Draco had been having a bad day. The match is as doomed from the start. 

But now, it seemed Narcissa had simply been taking a break from excessive matchmaking in order to lull him into a false sense of security. 

Astoria was sitting with her hands in her lap, eyes demurely cast downwards. She was pretty enough, he supposed, although at the moment he could only really see her honey coloured curls, cascading down her back. His face closed. If Mum whim.ere trying to start this again, he would put a stop to it. He was determined that no girl would have to suffer through a marriage with him, even if it did mean the ‘noble’ House of Malfoy would die out.

“I apologize, but I just meant to come greet you, Mother…and our…guests. I’m afraid I have some urgent business to attend to at the house. Lovely meeting you, Mrs. Greengrass, Miss Greengrass. I will be in my study if you need me, Mother.”

With that, he turned to leave. The elder Greengrass’ face had looked affronted. He didn’t know what Astoria’s looked like. He had been right- if Mrs. Greengrass had been offended by his excuses, his mother had been speaking of a union. Even more reason to escape. He picked up his pace.

Draco barely made it inside the Manor before he heard his mother’s heels hurrying to catch up. He stopped and sighed.

“What is it, Mother.”

“Draco, that was very rude.” Narcissa chided him. “Miss Greengrass came all the way from the city to meet you.”

“Well, considering the time it took to apparate, I doubt that the travel was very taxing. Really, Mother, a little warning that you were going to start trying to match me up with all your friends’ daughters would have been nice,” he snapped, leaning against the inner door. His outer appearance was calm, despite how much his inner turmoil disagreed. He traced the whorls in the polished wood as his mother began to speak.

“You will have to marry, Draco,” she began.

“No, Mother, I won’t. I don’t care that I need to produce an heir, I don’t care that our house might die out. I will not saddle any woman with an ex-Death Eater husband. I don’t care how much of a gold digger any of them are.”

“Draco, you no longer have a choice in the matter. You must marry. For my sake. I worry about you, Draco. And your father…” she choked on the word a little. “Your father would have wanted you to be happy.”

“I am happy!” he burst out, unable to keep silent any longer. “I’ve been happy for over three years! The Dark Lord is dead, I’m rolling in money, and I have a lovely mother. I have never been happier.” 

Narcissa stared at him silently, measuring him. Draco watched her warily. He knew that look. She was considering which bit of his past to use to get him to accede to her demands. Finally, she spoke.

“Do you remember when you got the Dark Mark, Draco?”

Of course he remembered. The burning pain, the screaming. The Dark Lord’s manic laughter. All of it.

She took his silence as acquiescence. “Lucius was scared for you. Bellatrix was proud, wishing she had a son to ‘give to the Dark Lord’. You smiled through your dinner, smiled when he asked if you could complete your task. You broke down afterwards. You came to me. Do you remember what you told me?”

Draco’s eyes were downcast. He remembered.

“You told me that you had had a wonderful dream the night before, Draco. You told me you had a dream where you lived here, in a bright Malfoy Manor, transformed with happiness. You told me you were married, in a world with no Dark Lord. You told me that you had a child in the dream, a child who loved you and called you father, and a wife who said she loved you. And, you told me you wished it were real. You wished you had a son, not to give him to the Dark Lord as Bellatrix would, but because it would mean you had a complete family, one who didn’t toss you to the wolves. A family who loved you.”

“Four years ago, Mum, I was scared. That would have been my Utopia. Now, I am happy. I will not pass my burden onto another.”

Narcissa closed her eyes, pinching her nose. She had hoped that she would not have to tell her son, that he would find a woman to be happy with before the allotted time was up on his own. Now, it seemed he would need the extra push. 

“Lucius changed his will.” 

“What?” Draco’s head snapped up. His eyes were wide. “How?”

“Just before he was sentenced to Azkaban. I told him of your dream, and we had seen you so closed off... He changed his will so that marriage is a requirement. You must marry before you turn two and twenty.”

“No…” Draco breathed, shoulders falling. Then he straightened. “Fine. I’ll marry Pansy- she certainly is willing, or used to be, at least. A regular pure blood marriage - with different bedrooms, etcetera, and we’ll live in this place. It’s certainly big enough to go most days without seeing one another.”

“I won’t bless that marriage.” She stared Draco down. 

There was a mulish set to his jaw, but after a few minutes, he broke their stare.

Narcissa, having won, saw fit to continue. “Pansy is a professor at Hogwarts now, and she won’t give up her job for you, along with the slight problem of her sexuality…but that’s not important. You would tear each other apart, Draco, even in a marriage where you don’t see each other. She would want more than you would want to give her.” Draco shook his head in disbelief. His world had officially turned upside down. Narcissa softened at her son’s vulnerability.

“I loved Lucius, Draco. I want you to have the family from your dream. You won’t get it if you stay in that shell of work and brooding that you have grown around yourself.”

Draco shook his head again, running a hand through his hair. “These girls- they’re all just gold-diggers, just like Pansy. It wouldn’t be any different.”

“Talk to Miss Greengrass, Draco. A civilized conversation. She likes books, and Quidditch. I think that there is much more of a possible future for you two than you and Miss Parkinson.”

Draco sighed, deflating. “Very well.” With that, his mother grinned, and he followed her back out to the garden.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“I hear that you have an interest in flowers, Miss Greengrass.” Narcissa said politely, sipping her tea. She exchanged a glance with Mrs. Greengrass. The two-young people had been incredibly awkward since Draco had returned to their company. Really, it was as if Draco had left behind all his good breeding and confidence in the house, Narcissa thought. Now, with a match in mind, she started to maneuver them together, aided and abetted by Mrs. Greengrass.

“Oh yes, Astoria is quite fascinated with the flora. Why, just the other day she was looking up ways to identify the flowers in our garden! I told her to just ask a house elf, but of course Astoria is very independent. We try to give her as much free time as possible when she is home, the rules at school do chafe at her so.”

Narcissa nodded sympathetically. “It was the same with Draco,” she said. “Especially in his older years.”

Draco looked taken aback. “Are you- you’re still-“ he choked over his words. Retaining some of his composure, he rephrased his question. “Do you play for your house in Quidditch, Miss Greengrass?”

Astoria looked at him coolly, meeting his probing eyes with a sparkling blue gaze. “Yes, I do, Mr. Malfoy. I am this year’s Slytherin Seeker.” She seemed to almost be daring him to comment.

“Astoria turned seventeen during a Quidditch match, I remember,” Mrs. Greengrass hastened to add.

Narcissa, sensing the discord in their little party, made a suggestion. “Why don’t you and Miss Greengrass take a walk around the garden, Draco, dear?” She gestured at the surrounding greenery. A path, just wide enough for two, wound through the garden. The two would have a moment to get to know each other while still being in plain sight of their chaperones.

Draco nodded, standing to offer his arm to Astoria. She stood as well, and took his arm meekly. They began to walk down the meandering path. As they moved out of earshot of the adults, Astoria spoke.

“I suppose you weren’t exactly expecting us here today.”

Draco looked at her, observing. Her hair curled gently, unlike Granger-Weasley’s monstrous fluff. The tints of gold and brown caught the light. Her eyes were a clear blue, undeceiving. He supposed the innocent look helped her get far in Slytherin. Still, her eyes were a pretty shade of azure- and they were looking right at him.

“Like what you see, Mr. Malfoy?”

Draco barked out a startled laugh. “That’s usually my line, Miss Greengrass.”

“Oh?”

“Yes- I’m surprised you haven’t heard stories of the ill-mannered Malfoy boy from all the would-be brides my Mum has brought over here for me.”

“Have you perfected a technique for chasing them off?” Astoria’s mouth twitched, as if she were holding back a smile.

Draco grinned. “I have, as a matter of fact. The manners alone are enough to scare off the most faint-hearted.”

Astoria smiled. “Well, I am certainly not faint of heart. One does get used to hearing…things…when on a Quidditch team of all boys.”

“You play Seeker?”

“I do indeed.”

“I played Seeker too. Although…Harry Potter was a great deal better than I was, even in sixth year, when he missed half the time because of detention.” Draco coughed. Even though they had put childlike hostility behind them, he still felt it hard to admit the Boy Who Lived was better than him.

“And the other half, I believe you were absent.”

“You do pay attention, don’t you?” They were silent. A part of Draco felt guilty at her admission to remembering him clearly, while he couldn’t remember her beyond Daphne’s dismissive wave towards a diminutive second year. 

On the other hand, Draco could remember horrors of his last clear as day. The constant fears. Wincing, he brought a hand up to his eyes. He wished he could replace those memories with memories of a fourth year Astoria, even if the memories were just of him pulling her pigtails (metaphorically, of course) as she tagged along with Daphne and his friends. 

Astoria looked up at him, this man. She had to admit, he seemed to be better than all the other suitors her mother paraded her out in front of, despite his Death Eater past. His hand was over his eyes, and he was practically cowering from the sun. She quickly looked away from his weakness. Hoping to distract him, she broke the silence without thinking.

“You should come see me play sometimes.” He stiffened beside her. She blushed as she realized what she had implied.

This witch had guts, Draco thought. To ask him to a Quidditch game when they hardly knew each other! But, on the other hand, he had to get to know some girl, if he didn’t want to be ruined by his father’s abominable will. 

Draco has already come into his inheritance, for Merlin’s sake. Why was Narcissa only telling him now, when he was only two years away from the deadline? Had she _really_ thought he’d find an appropriate girl on his own?

“That might be nice. I wish I could go back and play again. Maybe you and I could get out our brooms and go for a fly another day.” There.

Astoria couldn’t hold back her beam. “That would be lovely,” she said. Her mother, motioning for them to return, caught her eye. “I suppose this means you won’t be using any of your techniques to scare me away, then?”

Draco smirked. “Not _those_ techniques, no,” he said. 

Astoria’s blush deepened, but she ignored it, and allowed him to escort her back to their mothers with a self-assured step.


	3. make me a match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> q u i d d i t c h

On the day of Astoria’s first Quidditch match of the New Year, Draco Floo’d into the Headmistress’ office with no little amount of apprehension.

This was the first time he had stepped foot in Hogwarts since the war - since that horrific last year - and it was for a girl he barely knew. Draco had only had the one meeting with her, three weeks previously. But she had stuck with him. 

He wasn’t sure if it was his mother’s newly invigorated interest in marrying him off, or his own self-interest; he definitely didn’t want to get disinherited for the simple and easily rectified issue of his marriage, or lack thereof. Nevertheless, he found himself remembering Astoria at the most inopportune times. The flash of her golden brown hair out of the corner of his eye at the Ministry, the sound of her voice pulling him down halls in his dreams. 

He remembered her impulsive (and probably improper) invitation; and when he found himself with nothing to do one Saturday, he had made his own impulsive decision and jotted off a note to Headmistress McGonagall, requesting a visit.

“Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall greeted him tersely. He nodded, keeping an aloof expression on his face. “I take it you are here for the Quidditch match?” 

He nodded again, feeling slightly awkward standing in front of the portraits of all the past heads… including the one he had conspired to kill.

“Very well, Mr. Malfoy. We are just waiting for a few other people, then we will head down to the pitch. You will sit in the professors’ section of the stands, unless…unless you have someone you want to sit with?” She looked at him doubtfully.

He bristled. “No, thank you. The professors’ stands are quite all right.”

She nodded, and then they were standing there again. He shifted, shoving his hands in his pockets. Finally, the fire flared, and two people tumbled out of the fire.

“Ouch- sorry, Ginny- hello, professor,” Harry Potter puffed as he pulled himself to his feet. “No matter how many times I do it, I can’t seem to stick the landing.” He reached down and helped his wife up. Turning, he saw Draco.

“Malfoy,” he said tensely.

“Potter,” Draco drawled, shifting back into his self-sure self now that he had someone there who was even more uncomfortable than he was.

“Hello, Draco,” Ginny said, inserting herself between the two men.

“Mrs. Potter,” Draco nodded respectfully to Harry’s wife. He had learned the hard way not to go around insulting others’ wives. A little head poked out of some contraption Ginny was carrying on her front. Draco almost jumped, but regained his composure just in time.

“And who is this?” he asked civilly. Potter moved toward his child, acting as though Draco was going to kidnap the toddler.

Ginny put a hand on Harry’s arm. “This is James Sirius Potter,” she said, stroking her little boy’s unruly hair.

Draco raised his eyebrows. “I see he inherited your head, Potter.” He winced as soon as it came out of his mouth _. Was that polite?_ he asked himself apprehensively.

Contrary to his expectations, Harry laughed, a new light in his eyes as he looked at his son. “That he did,” he chuckled.

“Ahem,” McGonagall coughed to get their attention. “The game will be starting shortly- should we begin walking?”

“Yes, of course,” Harry said. “Lead the way, Professor.”

They set off, McGonagall ahead of them, Draco keeping pace with Harry and Ginny. As they walked, he snuck peeks at the little family out of the corner of his eye. _That is what my mother wants for me_ , he thought. Harry put an arm around Ginny, kissing the top of her head. _This is what my father is forcing me into._

Suddenly, watching them surreptitiously, an ache panged in his chest. _No_ , Draco thought. _This is what_ **I** _want for me._

They emerged through a door into the professors’ private stands, Draco allowing Harry and Ginny to go before him. McGonagall and the Potters found seats separately. Draco just stood there, feeling wildly out of place, not knowing where exactly to sit. The Slytherins huddled in a stand to his left, looking slightly subdued compared to the wildly screaming Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws. They were isolated from the other houses, who seemed to jeer at them as much as they did at each other. His brow furrowed. It was too bad Astoria was going to school in that environment…

He started when he heard his name being called.

“Malfoy!” Potter called. He gestured to a seat next to him and his family. “Come sit.”

Feeling a twinge at his school nemesis’ easy acceptance, he headed to the seat.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“…Elijah Cor, Seeker!” The cheers were deafening as the last Ravenclaw player entered the field. Draco noticed the Slytherins stand, and stiffen slightly, as the announcer began to call out their players. All the Slytherins cheered, making noise for their players, trying to compensate for the silence from the other houses.

“This isn’t right,” Harry muttered.

“What do you want to do, force the little brats to cheer for the relatives of Death Eaters?” Draco said harshly. Harry looked at him, slightly surprised by such a strong reaction. Then he remembered what Draco hid under his left sleeve. He nodded abruptly. It still wasn’t fair, but unfortunately, Draco was right.

“…Astoria Greengrass, Seeker!” The Slytherins were losing their voices and fortitude by the time Astoria came out, the cheers quieter than they had been for the others. Draco sneered, a mischievous gleam finding its way into his eye as he catcalled at the attractive girl.

Harry looked at him, surprised and a bit disgusted.

“You know that girl?” Ginny asked disapprovingly. Draco almost blushed, realizing the inappropriateness of his action.

“I - she - er…” Draco stumbled. A cat-like grin grew on Ginny’s face, as she began to suspect what he was going to say. “She’s who I’m here to see,” Draco said finally, regaining his composure. 

Ginny nodded, an _aha!_ look in her eyes. Harry smiled and shook his head.

Draco smiled to himself, replaying Astoria’s surprised and pleased look when she saw him as the game started.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Astoria looked at the stands, surprised, as someone catcalled at her. Usually the Slytherins had lost interest in cheering by the time she came out. As she scanned the stands, she noticed three extra figures in the professors’ stands. One was staring at her, a grin on his face.

She felt a smile of her own break out as she realized who it was. Draco had come! It was irrational that she was so excited to see him…she had only seen him once. The invitation wasn’t something she had thought about; by all accounts, Draco only ever left the house with his mother or on business. She had written the visit down in her ‘suitor diary’, and filed it away to the back of her mind. She had been sure it was just another one of her mother’s random pairings, one that wouldn’t lead to anything. She had been disappointed - during their conversation she had become certain that he wouldn’t only think of her as a trophy wife with no brains. But she hadn’t heard from him at all afterwards, and she had thought that was the end of it. 

But now… now, he was _here_ , and so many possibilities opened up to her.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Harry and Ginny rushed the field after the game was over, heading over to the Slytherin team. Slytherin had won, but barely. Harry seemed to want to make up for the lack of cheers with his own enthusiasm for the team’s success. It was almost comical, and it made Draco want to time travel back to second year, and see the shocked look on his twelve-year-old self’s face. 

Draco stood at the bottom of the stands, hands deep in the pockets of his coat.

“Hey.”

He turned. Astoria stood behind him, holding her broomstick loosely in a hand. Smiling, he walked toward her.

“Hey.”

They stood there, neither sure what to say.

“You came,” Astoria said, gesturing to his body.

He looked down. “Yeah, I did.” He sounded stiff and awkward, and he cursed himself. Where was the Malfoy charm that he so easily brought out to delight old biddies at his mother’s events?

“So, um…we won…” Astoria trailed off.

“Yeah,” Draco nodded. Their combined discomfort was so thick in the air it could be cut by a knife.

“Astoria!” Astoria’s friend, Grace, motioned for her to come to the locker room to change.

Astoria looked back at Draco. “I should…go…”

Draco nodded. She pivoted slowly. “Wait,” he said huskily. She pivoted back around.

He shifted uncertainly. “My offer of flying together – it still stands…”

Astoria beamed. “I would love to take you up on it.”

With that, she followed her teammates to the locker room.

Draco stood for a moment, looking around at the normal, school scene. No Dementors, no insane professors, no Death Eaters… well, except for him. After a moment, he turned and began walking to the gate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> recap: this is cross-posted from ff.net, with new edits! It was actually my very first fanfic; I finally got some time to fix it up and make it BETTER (it wasn't a total shitshow to begin with, but grammar and fluff was practically the only thing it had going for it) so now you all can enjoy reading without fear of abandonment, and with consistent updates :)


	4. find me a find, catch me a catch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after all, it would be a shame to leave her dateless

Tons of owls flew through the open windows of the dining hall at Hogwarts, raining letters and packages down upon the students. Astoria took a quick gulp of her orange juice, then quickly grabbed the letter from her mother's owl. Tearing it open, she scanned it quickly, not really paying attention to the descriptions of lavish parties and society gossip. Toward the bottom, her gaze caught on the word Draco. Slowing down, she read the rest of the letter carefully.

_Draco Malfoy escorted his mother to Mrs. Parkinson's cotillion last night, it was a most wonderful surprise to see him out. He looked pale. Have you talked to him, darling? He mentioned going to one of your Quidditch games; apparently, he quite enjoyed himself. I can't for the life of me understand why - you must have been so unfortunately sweaty and unattractive when he saw you. Have you talked to him recently?_

Astoria rolled her eyes at her mother's single mindedness. The rest of the letter lost her attention quickly. She was just scanning the final lines when a huge eagle owl called to the other owls, which startled in a flap of wings. Astoria looked up just as it descended to the table before her. Her face reddened as she took the letter from its leg. It felt like the whole hall was staring at her.

She opened the letter, and read:

_Miss Greengrass,_

_I enjoyed watching your Quidditch match; it has been a while since I have been to one personally. As I said upon my visit, my offer of a fly together still stands; if you are not otherwise engaged, I will make time for a fly and picnic on your next Hogsmeade weekend._

_Draco Malfoy_

Astoria shook her head at his formality. However, there was an undertone to his letter- a sort of urgency. She tried not to read too much into it. Still, she read and reread the letter all day, tracing the letters in his strong hand, and waiting for the moment when she could pen her response.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_Mr. Malfoy,_

_I am glad to hear the match was up to standard - you were lucky to come on one of the days we overcame the odds. I would be delighted to accompany you on a picnic. The next visit to Hogsmeade is two weeks from now. Please let me know if I should get any food from the kitchens, and if you will be in need of a school broom._

_Astoria Greengrass_

Draco laughed to himself upon reading the letter. "If you will be in need of a school broom" indeed. From anyone else, it might be construed as true concern, but he was sure Astoria was poking fun at him. She probably did want to know if he had a broom, though, he mused. It wasn't the done thing to make blind assumptions. Smiling, he wrote a response.

_Miss Greengrass,_

_I am happy to hear you are able to make time for me. I will not be needing a broom, thank you. If there is any specific food you would wish to have, please tell me now. I will be bringing a picnic basket from home, as my elves hold those at Hogwarts in great disdain. I will meet you in the Headmistress' office at eleven thirty._

_Draco Malfoy_

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Is that your boyfriend, Story?" Grace teased as Astoria read Malfoy's latest note.

"I don't know…" she murmured, carefully folding the paper and putting it in a pocket.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Astoria woke up early the day of the picnic. She indulged herself with a long, hot shower, brushing out her hair and deciding to let it dry naturally. Humming quietly, she sat at the edge of her bed and contemplated her outfit.

Not much later, the other girls in her dormitory woke. They chattered and giggled as they prepared for the Hogsmeade weekend. Many were going with a date; Grace had been asked just the day before. Astoria was glad. She had been worried that her friend would be on her own, while Astoria was with Draco.

"Who are you going with, Astoria?" Helena Nott asked slyly. She shared a look with her friend, conveying how doubtful she thought it was that Astoria had a date at all in one glance.

Astoria's cool mask fell over her face.

Helena noticed this, and pressed the point. "I mean, you are going with someone, aren't you?"

There was a long silence. Helena laughed, drawing in breath to say something more.

"I do have a date," Astoria said. Helena turned sharply to look at her.

"Oh? Who?"

"Draco Malfoy." Astoria's voice rang in the room. Helena turned white. It was common knowledge that the Notts had been trying to wrangle a betrothal contract with Draco for ages. They had thought it would be an easy thing, given Nott, Sr.'s shared connection to the Dark Lord and Theo Nott, Jr.'s friendship with Draco. Helena, unfortunately, had not survived Mrs. Malfoy's, and Draco's, for that matter, inspection.

"I don't believe you," she said flatly. "Draco Malfoy has far more important things to do than to visit a _school-girl_ at Hogwarts."

"Because he didn't visit you?" Astoria's subtle dig hit its mark. Helena's pale face reddened. She opened her mouth to continue. Headmistress McGonagall interrupted her, appearing in the fire with a vaguely disapproving expression on her face.

"Miss Greengrass, your…" McGonagall hesitated as she obviously searched for the correct word to call Draco. "Friend," she settled upon, "is here."

"Thank you, Professor, I will be right up." With a smug smile at Helena, Astoria headed to the headmistress' tower.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Draco stood, a large picnic basket settled by his feet. McGonagall had just Floo'd Astoria, and they were once again standing in uncomfortable silence.

Footsteps began climbing the stairs at a sedate pace. Draco smiled slightly as he heard McGonagall let out a faint sigh of relief. A few moments later, Astoria appeared in the doorway.

Draco gasped quietly. Her honey coloured curls were floating around her face. She was in muggle jeans and a simple shirt, but she made them look like the most expensive silks in Paris. A pilot jacket was slung over her arm.

Draco straightened, picking up the huge picnic basket.

"Shall we go?" Astoria suggested, with a respectful nod towards McGonagall.

With a nod of himself in McGonagall's direction (he hoped - he was much too focused on Astoria to be sure), Draco followed Astoria out of the room.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The couple paused in the stairwell. Astoria looked at Malfoy uncertainly. He smiled. Knowing her, as a Slytherin, she would have an act she wanted to put on but was not sure how to suggest it to him.

He raised his eyebrows. "So how are we going to play this?"

A shark-like grin flashed. "I'm glad you asked," Astoria said.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Students, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike, stopped in their tracks to stare at the spectacle of an ex- Death Eater millionaire and one of their own.

Astoria and Draco each held one side of the picnic basket's handle in one hand, a broomstick in the other. They swung the basket between them as they laughed and talked. Boys stared at Draco's broomstick; it was the latest, most expensive model. Girls turned green with envy to see Astoria with one of the most sought after bachelors of an aristocrat's world.

The whole Death Eater thing was unfortunate, of course, but he had been young, and found innocent in his trial. And just think of all the galleons in his vault!

Draco and Astoria pretended not to notice anyone as they practically skipped to the front of the line. Astoria was cleared to leave immediately, to Dennis Creevey's consternation. He had been standing in line for over an hour to get out; what right did that girl have to skip the line just because she was with that Malfoy prat?

Astoria sensed his hostility and giggled. Draco sensed his hostility and glared.

Just outside the gates, they got on their brooms and zoomed off toward the Forbidden Forest.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Draco watched Astoria as she soared through the air. He had taken the picnic basket when they began flying, so he was not quite as daring with his antics. Astoria was gleeful. He understood, vaguely, that she had gotten one over a roommate with their display. Now, she zoomed her broom up and down, paying no heed to the laws of gravity, a smile on her face.

He flew slower, flying a straight line as she cavorted around him. He was watching her so attentively that he almost missed the turn.

"Astoria!" he called. He pointed to their destination. Looking slightly abashed, the girl flew sedately beside him the rest of the way.

They landed in a clearing, a smallish oasis of green, green grass. Wildflowers dotted the ground. Draco set his broom down beside him and set out the picnic blanket while Astoria gazed around her. He tapped her on the shoulder, and gestured toward the blanket. She smiled and sat down daintily. He chuckled. If she had been wearing a skirt, she would have spread it out around her.

Pureblood princess, indeed. For all that his mother claimed to eschew the importance of blood and tradition, Draco knew she would be pleased with her find.

He took a seat beside Astoria and opened the basket.

The food was pretty much gone by the time they began talking. Draco was stretched out on the blanket, elbow supporting him. Astoria was sitting cross-legged, leaning back on her arms, propriety abandoned.

"The grass is so green," she commented, breaking the silence.

Draco laughed, throwing his head back. Astoria giggled as well, noting that the shadow that had hung over his face ever since he arrived lifted.

"Well, Greengrass, was the food good?" Draco asked, snickering.

"I would come over and hit you, but I'm just so full…" Astoria sighed, laying on her back and looking at the sky. Draco smiled, looking at the pretty picture she made.

"Hey, that cloud looks like McGonagall!" Astoria cried. Draco lay down to look at the sky as well.

"Maybe in her cat form," he guffawed. Astoria stuck her tongue out at him.

After a moment, she spoke again. "No, I was wrong." Her eyes took on a mischievous glint. "It looks like a ferret."

"Why, you…" Draco sputtered, before giving in and laughing with her. He hadn't been able to shake that nickname in the years since he had received it; in fact, it had seemed to spread even more.

They quietened.

"I'm glad you said I could come," Draco said suddenly, sitting up.

"I like spending time with you," Astoria replied, sitting up as well. She watched his profile warily to see how her comment was received.

"You've discovered this in the two times you've been in my company?" He seemed to realize how bitter he sounded as soon as the words came out of his mouth, and he straightened. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"No, no," Astoria stopped him. "It's fine. I know… I was raised with the same traditions as you were. I know how this works."

"I suppose you do."

She grimaced. "I've been paraded around like a prize pony ever since I turned seventeen."

He relaxed a little. "Sounds rough."

"It is," she sighed. "Though not as rough as realising my childhood crush had no idea I existed."

"I - what?"

Astoria burst out into laughter at the shock on his face. "It's fine, Draco," she said, leaning into him. "I'm not dying of a broken heart, or anything. You clearly know I exist now."

"Right." He gave her a half-smile, recovering from his discomfiture. "I suppose I'm quite a catch?"

Astoria put on an affected air. "Yes, although your handwriting is atrocious."

"Hey!" he protested.

"Admit it - you got rid of the frills as soon as you left school."

He shrugged. "I didn't have any use for them, and they were slowing me down. Although _you_ have to admit that they add a little something to my signature."

"Ah, the signature of Draco Malfoy!" Astoria exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. "I am not worthy to possess such a thing!"

"You're worthy," Draco said, startling them both into silence. "And I did know you existed. It's just… well, you were quite a bit younger, and those last few years, I was…"

"Distracted," Astoria finished for him, when he trailed off. She studied his face. He had turned away from her slightly, the shadow across his face returning as they sank back into silence - this one less comfortable than the ones before.

After a moment he cleared his throat. "Tell me about the girl who didn't believe you when you said I was coming to see you."

Astoria threw her head back, soaking in the sun. "Ah, yes, the lovely Helena Nott."

Draco nodded. "Theodore's sister."

Astoria snorted. "Yes, well, being the younger sister…she's spoiled. Rotten, like a wormy apple. She gets whatever she wants." She made a face.

"Everything?" Draco mused.

"Whatever she wants," Astoria said in a sing-song voice. "And as of now, she wants you."

Draco barked out a laugh. Astoria frowned as the shadow fixed itself on his face again. "Yes, well, her mother wants her to have me too. I assure you, I am not in the least bit interested, if that was what was worrying you."

Astoria smiled hesitantly, although her frown lingered.

He shook his head, still chuckling. "Theo's almost as opposed to it as I am. Apparently, they keep nagging him about it - 'Theo, ask Draco this', and 'Theo, get Draco to do that' - and he's let me know in no uncertain terms that he has no interest in becoming my brother-in-law. I think his exact words were something along the lines of, 'spare you from the horror that is my sister'."

He startled a laugh out of her. "Poor Helena," she snickered. "She'll be heartbroken."

Draco shrugged lithely. "There are only two hearts I find I am unwilling to break."

Astoria's breath caught. His liquid silver eyes were fixed on her, and her heart fluttered under his unwavering gaze. A part of her wanted to lean forward, get closer, maybe lift her head and brush her lips against his -

Draco got up abruptly, making a show of checking his expensive watch. "I believe it's almost four o'clock. You'll have to be back at school soon."

Astoria inwardly sighed. She had said something - done something - or he had remembered something disconcerting. She wanted to hug him, but it wouldn't be proper. He picked up the picnic basket and got on his broom. She flew beside him as they flew back to Hogwarts, lost in thought.

He stopped at the gates, and she alighted next to him. They stared at each other, neither knowing what to do next.

"I won't go in- I think I'll just apparate home from here," Draco said. Astoria nodded. "Well, goodbye, then," he said, shifting from foot to foot. He was there, but she could see he was also somewhere else in his mind. Moving forward, she kissed him on the cheek. He stiffened.

"Goodbye," she replied, turning to go back to school.

"Wait!" he yelped. He jogged up a small hill to reach her. "Can I – Can we - that is, may I see you again?"

Astoria smiled brilliantly. "My next Hogsmeade weekend is two weeks." With that, she disappeared into the gates.

Draco felt strange as he headed to the apparation point. When he reached it, he looked back at the Hogwarts gates. Yes, he would see her again. He found he _wanted_ to.

After all, it would be a shame to leave her dateless on a Hogsmeade weekend.


	5. find me a match of my own

Parties were so dull. Draco had lived through so many cotillions, balls, all for his mother. He usually grabbed a drink, and worked on finishing it all night while talking business with an associate. When it was at his home, his snuck into his study after dinner, then made a second reappearance to see his guests out.

Not tonight.

He and Astoria had been seeing each other for a month. The way some of the old biddies spoke about them, one was led to believe that their marriage was a given. Draco still wasn’t sure. The more he saw of Astoria, the more he admired her. She was beautiful, and had a brain behind those pretty blue eyes. She didn’t hide what she thought from him…he could always read her.

But he didn’t think she realized the extent to which his past had damaged him. She was kind, ignoring the moments when memories overcame him. That didn’t mean she had the mettle to face him at his worst moments, the ones he hid from the world.

She was charming, he noted as he watched her. He had gone to fetch them some champagne, and had stayed to the side of the room. He wasn’t used to being in the center of attention…at events like this one, thrown in his Manor, he snuck away as soon as possible. He and Astoria were the talk of the season, however, so that wasn’t an option at this party.

Astoria was polite, lively enough to be interesting but not enough to be improper. She laughed at all the proper moments, and displayed all the proper emotions. He knew, however, that while the house elves were cleaning and they were in the parlour being supervised by said elves, she would replay every part of her evening that she had had an improper emotion for, and tell him how she would have really reacted.

The gentlewoman she was talking to left on the arm of her husband, and Astoria discreetly looked for Draco. Smiling, he snagged two flutes of champagne and allowed himself to be found.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

They sat on the concrete side of the fountain, making small talk. Astoria fumed inwardly. This was not going well. A month in, and she barely saw this boy break out of his stiff, pureblood, mannered shell. A month in which they had tiptoed around each other, a month of civil talking and barely touching. Finally, she snapped.

“My, it is warm out here,” she said, breaking off mid sentence. Her eyes took on an impish light as she removed her shoes. She gave them to him. Turning to the fountain, she grinned. “Care to take a swim?” She gingerly stepped into the fountain, staying away from the middle, for now. Her violet dress fanned out around her ankles.

Draco nervously looked back to the party. “Astoria…” he said hesitantly. Astoria inwardly rolled her eyes. Voldemort sure had done a number on this one, she thought. He was going to take more convincing.

She leaned in, wrapping her arms around his neck. His breath quickened. She smirked when she noticed this, then slowly removed his tie.

“Beautiful tie,” she said. “Would your mother want it to get wet?” She backed away, moving toward the center of the fountain.

“Astoria, come on, give it back…”

“Come and get it.” For a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to. Then, he took off his shoes, a smirk of his own growing. One she hadn’t seen since the first day, when he had told her about techniques. He jumped into the fountain, making a splash. She squealed as some of the water hit her. He laughed.

“All right, I’m in. Now do you want to come to me, or shall I come get you?”

She took two steps back. “I’ve still got your tie,” she giggled.

“I’ll come get you, then!” he charged toward her, splashing and laughing. She ran away, laughing as well. They ran through the water spraying in the middle of the fountain. Blinded by water, Astoria had to stop to get her bearings. Draco, seeing her stop, snuck up behind her.

“Got you,” he whispered in her ear, wrapping his arms around her waist. She inhaled quickly. Twisting in his arms, she looked up into his eye. In this way, less put together than she had ever seen him, soaking wet, filled with laughter, eyes sparkling, she could see the boy he had once been, before a war. His smile faded, replaced by a focus and a playfully serious demeanor. His eyes flashed to her lips, then back to her eyes.

Was he asking permission to kiss her? Astoria wondered. It had been a month- surely it was proper by now. Hoping she wasn’t misreading the situation, she leaned up and kissed him.

She knew she hadn’t misread the moment she touched his lips.

Draco wouldn’t have called anything magical, never, not since Voldemort had taken up residence in his house. But this kiss, this moment…it certainly was.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Mistress?” Dilly said quietly to Narcissa. Narcissa excused herself from the conversation she had been roped into with the young Mr. Zabini and his mother. Leaning down, she transferred her attention to the house elf.

“Yes, Dilly? I do hope this is something important,” Narcissa said. 

“Master Draco and Miss Greengrass are in the fountain,” Dilly whispered.

Narcissa straightened, and casually walked over to the window.

Outside, Draco and Miss Greengrass were playing in the huge fountain Lucius had commissioned for their second anniversary. They were splashing, being children despite their age. Every so often Draco would steal a kiss, getting bolder.

Narcissa smiled to see her Draco so happy.

Quietly, Mrs. Greengrass moved to stand beside Narcissa. Tapping her peer on the shoulder, Mrs. Greengrass passed Mrs. Malfoy a glass of red wine. The two ladies stood in the window, neglecting their guests for a moment and watching their children.

Narcissa felt tears prick her eyes. Mrs. Greengrass nudged her.

“It appears we will be distributing wedding invitations soon; do you not agree?”

The women exchanged joyful smiles.

“I agree,” Narcissa said.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	6. I'm longing to be the envy of all I see

_Dear Astoria,_

_I have been meaning to ask you whether you prefer my old handwriting or the new and improved version. There, are there enough frills? I won’t be using them, but I found an old calligraphy book in my library and it reminded me of what you said about my handwriting._

_I’m quite horrible at writing friendly letters, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. It’s much better in person. When I’m writing to you, I try to do a stream of consciousness. It makes a more cordial letter, I find. Yet I still feel I come across as overly formal._

_It was lovely having you near for Easter holiday. I could tell you anything I thought of when I thought of it, despite the tiresome chaperones. I had something I wanted to tell you earlier, in the middle of a meeting; I can’t remember it for the life of me now. I’ll have to start writing these things down._

_My mother had your mother and the elder Mrs. Nott over for tea the other day. I can’t understand why she’d invite that woman over. According to Theo, Helena has been causing a ruckus at home. I suppose Mrs. Nott was making it difficult for my mother in their circle. Has Helena said anything to you? I would hate for school to be more difficult for you because of me._

_Diagon Alley has finally replaced Fortescue’s old place. It was getting quite dilapidated; apparently, some officials were afraid it would turn that part of Diagon Alley into Knockturn Alley. ‘Extending their borders’ or some other paranoid reason. It’s a café now, one that happens to serve ice cream as well. I’d like to take you there when you are next at home._

_As it stands, you are at school, and I am at my townhouse in London conducting some business. I will be there on the sixteenth; I’ll even go to that awful pink teahouse with you if it means you’ll spend time with me._

_Love from,_

_Draco_

Astoria smiled softly as she read Draco’s letter. Grace leaned in, her eyes sparkling.

“New letter?” Astoria nodded. She carefully refolded the letter and replaced it in its envelope.

Helena Nott sneered as she watched Astoria practically dance to the door.

_Darling Draco,_

_I won’t make you go to the ‘awful pink teahouse’ again. I agree, it was quite terrible, but it was entertaining to see your haughty, pureblood self squirm. You’ll have to excuse me._

_I haven’t noticed at all that you are horrible at writing friendly letters, and I probably wouldn’t have, if you hadn’t pointed it out. Now that my attention has been called to it, I have to agree again. But you have gotten much better- your first letter sounds like a mandatory letter to a great aunt twice removed. I suppose the stream of consciousness is working for you._

_Helena is a spoiled brat, as I believe I have told you before. I don’t know how she’ll survive after school if she doesn’t get married. I’m sorry if your mother has been having problems. Perhaps a more permanent arrangement would deter them from crit I understand that my mother has some friends who don’t necessarily move in the same circle as Mrs. Nott. Perhaps I can arrange for her to introduce your mother to some of them?_

_We won our match against Gryffindor. If we win against Ravenclaw, the Quidditch Cup is ours! I’ll refrain from telling you the collective feeling toward our house at the moment, for I fear threatening underage children still in school wouldn’t help your reputation much._

_I look forward to seeing you again, and to being out of school. Please forgive me if my letters become more infrequent; N. E. W. T.s are coming up, and I am woefully unprepared. Please give my regards to your mother._

_Astoria_

N. E. W. T.s. Draco shuddered. He had hated O. W. L.s, and for him, N. E. W. T.s had been worse. After the war, he had been forced to go back to Hogwarts for seventh year. It was one of the Ministry’s requirements, and he had hated every moment of it. Looking back, he wondered if Astoria had been there. She probably had, but he had spent so much time hiding behind the wards in his dorm, or in the farthest corner of the library… and even those places weren’t necessarily safe.

He closed his eyes and his head fell onto his desk. _Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think…_ Getting up, he paced around his study, around and around and around and around and around. _Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think…_ Finally, he sat down in his chair.

He ripped two pieces of paper because he was digging the pen in too hard. The third was respectable.

“Dilly,” he called hoarsely. The little elf appeared in the corner of her room, hunched over.

“Master called?”

“Pick a dozen of the Juliet roses from the garden, and send them to Miss Greengrass.” He handed Dilly the note. “This as well.” Dilly took the note, and backed away. “Wait!” Draco said suddenly. He turned to face the elf. “Red roses, please, Dilly.”

“Yes, Master.” The elf apparated out of the room. Grabbing a glass, Draco went to the cupboard where he kept his muggle brandy. He poured it into his glass.

“Cheers,” he muttered, and he tossed it back.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_Thinking of you, love._

_-Draco_

Astoria’s brow creased as she looked at the note that had come with the flowers. It was Draco’s writing, but there was something different, something tortured about it. Like it had been scribbled without any care of how it looked.

She put the flowers on her bedside table, on display. She knew she shouldn’t provoke people, especially not Helena Nott. But she wanted to see the flowers when she woke every morning, when she went to bed. She cast a Preserving spell on them, and a non-expiring shield charm her mother sent her from their library at home. And she wrote back to Draco.

_Draco,_

_I greatly appreciate the flowers you sent me. I’m sure I’ll treasure them forever. Helena was livid, and I love you. I’m counting down the days until summer. I asked my mum, and she feels it wouldn’t be too untoward for you to pick me up from Platform Nine-and-three-quarters. I’d love to see you, if you feel you have time._

_My eighteenth birthday is coming up, right in the middle of May. I may go home, as it’s on a Saturday. Spend a weekend at home, away from the hectic world of school. I sometimes envy you, Draco. No tiny first-years with their high-pitched, squeaky little voices running around underfoot. I remember that when I was a first-year, one of my greatest grievances was that the seventh-years didn’t like me. Now that I am in my own last year, I completely understand the older students’ indifference to the lower school. Do you remember feeling the same in first-year? I’ve been thinking of you too, my dragon._

_Love,_

_Astoria_

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	7. night after night, in the dark, I'm alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> really specific memory based nightmares :(

“You’ll be back on Sunday?” Professor McGonagall asked, looking over the rim of her book.

“Yes, Sunday afternoon,” Astoria confirmed.

“Very well. Floo powder is on the mantle.” Professor McGonagall smiled fondly at the girl. A Slytherin, yes, but Albus had always told them that House affiliation meant nothing. And she really was a polite girl, well-mannered.

Astoria threw the powder into the fire. “Greengrass Manor,” she called, stepping through.

She stepped out in her house’s parlor, and almost ran over her mother.

“Welcome home, darling,” Mrs. Greengrass enveloped her daughter in a hug, before ushering her to the stairs. “Now, everything is a surprise for tomorrow, Astoria, so stay in your room…Unless,” her eyes twinkled, “unless you have someone special to visit?”

Astoria blushed. “I told Draco I would visit after I came home, if that’s alright with you…”

“Quite all right, Astoria dear,” her mother said, patting her on the shoulder. Holding out her hand, she heedlessly gave her daughter a handful of floo powder. “Go ahead and floo from your father’s study.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Astoria said. She kissed her mother on the cheek before turning around and skipping up the stairs.

Mrs. Greengrass sighed as she watched her daughter. _They truly do grow up so fast,_ she thought.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . .. . . .

“Hello, Astoria.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Malfoy,” Astoria said with a small curtsy.

Narcissa smiled. “I assume you’re here to see my son?”

She nodded, blushing prettily. Narcissa nodded back. “He’s in his study,” she said, gesturing down a hallway. “Up the stairs then the second door on the left.”

“Thank you,” Astoria said. She turned and sedately walked down the hall, following Narcissa’s instructions.

Narcissa smiled softly. “Dilly,” she called. When the elf appeared, she gave her orders. “Please chaperone Mr. Malfoy and Miss Greengrass.”

“Yes, Mistress.” With that, the elf vanished.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_He knew something was wrong the moment he stepped out of the dorm that he got all to himself, as the only student from his year in Slytherin returning to redo the year. Not by choice, of course. But the single room was a perk._

_A moment after that thought, meaty arms grabbed him around his chest, binding his arms. A bag was thrown over his head._

_How cliché, he thought. You’d think a kidnapper would look for a bit of subtlety._

_He was in an empty classroom that had been deserted for many years now, one that had been destroyed by the war, in less than ten minutes._

_It was less than two minutes after his capture that he realised what they wanted with him._

_It was eight point six five eight seven minutes after his capture that he realised they were being followed._

_He saw the child before they could shut the door._

_“Please…” His voice was barely a whisper, almost a hiss as he appealed to the small boy who stood in the doorway of the empty room. The child’s eyes were wide as he took in Draco, and the seventh years who were holding him down._

_The boy turned away, and Draco deflated, folding into himself and closing his eyes._

_“It’s your fault, you know.” The boy had come back, and this little first-year was telling him it was his fault the Dark Lord came to power. Or maybe it was smaller than that. Maybe it was just Dumbledore, or…or…if he looked enough at any part of his life, he knew he could find something that was his fault._

_“They all look at us like we’re scum.” The boy gestured to his arm. “And it’s because of that.”_

_“Not a witch or wizard that went wrong that wasn’t in Slytherin,” Draco laughed hoarsely._

_“That’s why we’re going to cut it out of you,” the seventh-year holding his right arm said. “You dirty bastard.”_

_He traded his wand for a knife, and motioned for his lackey. The lackey slammed Draco onto a desk. His cheek smashed into the table. Crabbe, he thought dimly. Crabbe used to do this for me._

_“Silencio.” The leader silenced the room, leaving the first-year out. He lifted the knife over Draco’s forearm. “Let’s see if you can feel this **, Death Eater**.”_

_He almost told the bastard that nothing he could inflict would compare to what the Dark Lord **had** inflicted._

_The last thing that Draco remembered before the blinding pain was the little first-year boy, staring at the seventh-years he had championed in horror._

_. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ._

_“What do you think you’re doing?”_

_Hallucinating. Hallucination. Yes, that’s what it was. Because no way would Hermione Granger, swot extraordinaire, be here, in this old, abandoned classroom, telling off his tormentors. That would not be possible._

_“Expelliarmus! Expelliarmus!”_

_“What the hell…”_

_“I’m taking points off, gentlemen. Fifty points off Slytherin for each of you. And, I’m going to tell your Head of House. I’m sure the Professor will be able to come up with a suitable punishment.”_

_Don’t, Granger, he wanted to say. You’ll only make it worse._

_“Thank you, Nigel, for coming to me about this. Thirty points to Slytherin.”_

_Nigel? He cracked an eye open to see the little first-year boy standing next to Granger, hiding behind her as the two seventh-years shouldered their way past the two. Funny, they’d tortured him and he still didn’t know their names, he thought abstractly. Very amusing._

_“Get up, Malfoy,” Granger said._

_“How considerate, mu…” he broke off. He looked up, into the eyes of the woman who had saved him. “Miss Granger,” he finally said, attempting a low bow._

_“Sod off, Malfoy,” she said. Gripping his shoulders, she forced him to look her in the eye. “I don’t like you, Malfoy. I think you’re an inbred, aristocratic twit whose values are seriously dated. This does not change anything between us. But still…” she paused and grinned, almost laughed. “ It would have been a waste, being your advocate, and persuading Ron to do the same, just for you to die at the hands of some resentful children.” Her grin turned feral. “I expect you to pay me back in kind, Mr. Malfoy.”_

_With that, she handed him off to the first year. “Bring him to the hospital wing,” she commanded. “And maybe you can persuade him to use some of that Malfoy money and influence to buy yourself some bodyguards. You may need them.”_

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Aahahahhhhahahhhhahhhhhh…”

There must have been a silencing charm on the room. Astoria opened the door, and a scream came out. She almost shut it. It sounded like someone was being Crucio’d to death in there. Finally, she gathered her courage and let herself in.

_Only Draco_ , she told herself, shaking. _Mrs. Malfoy said this was where Draco was._

The screams were fading to whimpers. She looked around cautiously, looking for a shining blond head in the cluttered room.

“Draco?” she whispered. She stepped around a chaise lounge and gasped. Draco was crumpled on the ground next to the couch. A pillow on the chair was rumpled, and she supposed he had fallen off in his sleep.

“Draco!” she called to him, gently shaking him. She moved around his body to place his head in her lap. “Draco!”

His eyes blinked open, his face still scrunched up. “Astoria?” he asked as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “Astoria?”

“I’m here,” she whispered, brushing the hair off his face. Tears began streaming down his face, and he screwed up his eyes, trying to keep them in.

“It’s all right,” Astoria whispered, comforting him the best she could. “It’s going to be all right…”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He fell back asleep, and she lost track of time as she sat there, his head in her lap, watching him dream. She was aware of a house elf in the corner, probably on orders to make sure ‘Missy Astoria’ didn’t get defiled in her suitor’s study.

A clock struck five, and he stirred. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes blearily. He took a moment to gain his bearings before he spoke.

“Hello, Astoria,” he said quietly.

“Draco,” she said, reaching for him. He flinched away.

He turned around. Dark circles under his eyes that she hadn’t seen when he was asleep were suddenly stark against a pale face.

“Oh, Draco,” she murmured, reaching out to gently rub under his eyes. He closed them, leaning into her touch.

“Are you going to run now?” he asked in a hushed voice. “Suddenly become quite unavailable on Hogsmeade weekends and garden parties?”

“I’m not Helena Nott,” she said in a mock offended tone. He laughed.

“That you are not.” He looked at her. “So you’re staying?”

Astoria took a deep breath, her soothing smile fading away. She felt shaky on the inside, more afraid of what she was going to say than she could ever remember being of anything in her life.

Finally, just as Draco was beginning to look a little worried, she said it. “I love you,” she said, a bubble of joy exploding in her chest at the ecstatic look that replaced the worry. “I’m staying.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	8. he'll be my groom, slender and pale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> birthday party with a kick, please

Draco was watching her again. She could feel his eyes following her as she traversed the room, playing the perfect hostess. It was her party, after all…her eighteenth birthday. The previous night, she had left him soon after he had woken up, to allow him time to recover. They had barely spoken since, other than perfunctory kisses on the cheek in greeting, and him giving her a beautiful set of jade earrings.

Surely the parents could see something was wrong, she thought. As he watched her, leaning up against a pillar and pretending to listen to Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott gripe at each other, she sneaked glances back at him.

“So,” Lady Nott said, catching one of her glances over to him. Astoria had been choking her way through a conversation with her and her daughter, Helena. It seemed they were both trying to trip her up at every turn. “Are we to expect an announcement in the papers?” The woman cast a pointed look at Astoria’s left hand.

“Not yet, no,” Astoria said quietly, sipping from her glass.

“Hmmm,” Mrs. Nott hummed.

“If you’ll excuse me, Mrs. Nott,” Astoria said. She ignored Helena, who was standing at her mother’s side, sneering at Astoria.

She began to make her way across the room to Draco, when she was intercepted by Mrs. Malfoy.

“Astoria,” she began. Astoria stopped and gave the lady her full attention. “I realise…you caught my son at an awkward moment yesterday.”

Astoria looked at her steadily. “I suppose I did, yes…”

Narcissa probed the girl's face, searching for some sort of answer. “I can trust your absolute discretion?” she finally asked. It was obviously not the question that was on her mind.

Astoria nodded. “And I’d be glad to help Draco if he needed any counsel on whatever is giving him those…dreams.”

Narcissa’s shoulders relaxed marginally. “Well,” she said. “I should let you go. Happy Birthday, Astoria dear.”

“Thank you,” Astoria said, smiling sweetly. She turned to continue on her way, and was surprised to see Draco walking up to her.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hey.” He looked uncomfortable, hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders a bit hunched. “Do you think you could disappear for a moment?”

She looked around. “I could escape my duties for a few minutes,” she acceded.

Draco nodded toward the maze, with a very low, see-through hedge of rose bushes. He offered his arm. “Shall we?”

She took it, beaming up at him. “We shall.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

They walked together quietly, following the well-worn path to the center of the maze. There was a stone bench, intricately carved, sitting in the center of the center. Astoria sat and traced the curves on the side, remembering days when she would come out here to read, and get away from the world. Draco lowered himself to the bench, next to her.

They sat for a moment, watching the people still at the party, distorted by the rows of roses.

“I’m not going to run away,” Astoria said abruptly, kick-starting the conversation.

“You should,” Draco said. “You should make your excuses, then run as fast as you can in the opposite direction.”

“I won’t.”

“And I don’t understand why. Astoria, I’m rich. That’s why most girls want me, and are willing to look past the scar on my arm. But you, you aren’t here for my vaults. You actually like me, and Astoria, it’s not right. It’s not right that someone as perfect as you should want someone like me. Do you see this?” He shoved his left sleeve up, baring his arm. “I’m hated for this, Tori. I messed up, or my father messed up, and this mark? It’s here forever. It’s not going away, never…and I don’t think you understand what comes along with it. The stares…the mutters…”

“The nightmares,” Astoria interrupted him. She stared straight ahead, feeling tears well up in her eyes. She blinked, forcing them back.

“The nightmares,” Draco repeated heavily. “Every night, Astoria. I see Dumbledore falling off that roof. I hear that monster telling me to torture people, and whatever I do, it’s never enough. I see him torture my father, my mother. I see his snake kill my professor over my dining table. I see my aunt torture Granger in my parlour. Astoria…do you really want to be married to someone as broken as I am? Do you even _see_ how broken I am?”

“I. Don’t. Care.” Astoria shoved the words at him, and she rapidly turned on the bench to face him. “I don’t care how broken you are, how broken you think you are. I don’t care. I don’t care. I want to be there for you, Draco, rain and shine. Isn’t that what marriage is? I’m willing to stand with you through it all, Draco. Through it all. I…I…” she blinked and blinked, and at the last minute, lost her nerve. Somehow, the words that had been so easy last night escaped her in the brightness of day. “I greatly admire you.”

Draco shuddered on the bench. He reached into his pocket, fingering the small, square box he had gone out and purchased the night before.

“If…if you don’t…feel…the same, it is your judgement that matters,” Astoria said quietly.

They sat there, both frozen in a pretty tableau. Finally, Draco moved.

He got off the bench, and kneeled on the ground in front of Astoria. Her mind froze, and for a moment, she couldn’t understand what was happening. Wasn’t he just about to reject her?

He got down on one knee, and reached into a pocket, pulling out a small black box.

“Draco?” she managed to gasp out uncertainly.

“Astoria,” he began. “I realise…I realise we haven’t actually known each other that long, but really, some courtships are much shorter, and, well, some aren’t actually courtships, just arranged, and you already know me so much better than any of my friends do…” he coughed, then straightened, extending the glittering diamond ring to her. “So, if you are willing to brave breaking most social codes and wear this back to the party…” he broke off again, and closed my eyes. “Miss Greengrass, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

Astoria stared at him breathlessly. “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes!” she shouted, pulling him up and hugging at him, her eyes shining.

Without thinking, he leaned down and kissed her. “Maybe you’d like to put on the ring?” he laughed.

“Well, it would be a shame to let it go to waste,” she joked. She put the ring on, and held it up to the light. They both stared at it for a moment, sensing the gravity of the situation.

“Happy birthday, Astoria,” Draco murmured.

She looked up at him, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her mouth. Then they were laughing, and giggling, and hugging, and exchanging kisses, pecks, in between.

“Ahem.”

They were finally interrupted by a polite cough. Both jumped and turned to see both their mothers standing there, watching.

“How long have they been there?” Astoria hissed under her breath.

“Not long, I hope,” Draco mumbled.

A smile ghosted along Narcissa’s lips before she smoothed her face back into a neutral expression.

“Would you like to explain how you came to be here without a chaperone?” she asked.

“Uh…you can see the party through the bushes?” Draco suggested nervously. Astoria smirked.

“Your guests have been wondering where you are,” Mrs. Greengrass said to her daughter disapprovingly.

“Ah…” she started, looking at the implacable wall of Mrs. Malfoy and Mrs. Greengrass. “Um…we’re engaged?” she said, hoping to distract them. Draco nodded empathetically, holding Astoria’s left hand up.

The ladies smiled. “I thought it might have been something like that,” Mrs. Malfoy said.

“However, you still have a duty to your guests,” Mrs. Greengrass added sternly.

“Yes, mother,” Astoria sighed.

“Why don’t you two find your way out of the maze with us?” Narcissa suggested.

The couple looked at each other and smirked. “We can try,” Astoria said.

And they did make their way out eventually, albeit fifteen minutes longer than the normal time.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The whispers and mutters abruptly stopped as Draco and Astoria emerged from the maze. They were holding hands, and it was not immediately clear what had transpired in the maze. Astoria returned to hob-nobbing with her guests, this time with Draco at her elbow, as Mrs. Malfoy and Mrs. Greengrass watched with an air of content about them.

“Ah, Mr. Malfoy,” Mrs. Nott said, catching Draco’s elbow as he passed by with Astoria. A look of disappointment flashed across her face when Draco stopped Astoria, and the couple stood side by side. She had obviously been hoping to catch Draco alone. Helena stood beside her mother, still, looking at Draco coquettishly through her eyelashes.

“Mrs. Nott,” Draco said, in a civil if not entirely pleased tone. “How are you?”

“Very well, thank you,” she said, and stood there smiling, waiting.

Draco coughed. “And, Miss Nott?” he asked. “How has school been treating you?”

“Also well, thank you,” Helena simpered. “I was s _o_ pleased to be able to leave for Astoria’s little party.” She sneered at Astoria briefly before putting her mask back on.

“Well, it seems that more school may be missed in the future,” Astoria smiled predatorily.

“Oh?” Mrs. Nott said, politely interested, wondering how it could benefit her daughter.

“Yes,” Draco said, catching Astoria’s vein. “We may have something very special to celebrate, in the _near_ future.” He subtly angled Astoria’s hand so the diamond on it caught the light, reflecting in Helena’s eyes.

“Oh!” the girl exclaimed furiously. “What is _that_?!”

“Shhh…” Astoria said mischievously, holding a finger to her lips. “Don’t tell.”

With that, the couple excused themselves and moved on.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	9. see that he's gentle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> letters

_Dearest, darlingest, sweetest, my Astoria,_

_I love you. We’ve been invited to the Potters’ house for dinner. Apparently news travels fast; Potter ran up to me at work, congratulated me, and invited me to dinner. He told me to bring you. Normally I’d decline, but I’m sure you’re burning with desire to see the Chosen One in his natural habitat, and of course he does have a son. And Teddy…he’s Andromeda’s daughter’s son. The grandson of my mother’s sister._

_I admit, I do have an ulterior motive in agreeing to this visit. Mum. The other day, she took out photo albums and was looking through them, explaining all of them to me. There was a lot of Andromeda in the pictures she showed me. I hope you like listening to the story of people’s lives while poring over photos; you’ll be roped into it sooner or later, marrying me._

_On that subject, do you object to living in Malfoy Manor? My mother lives there; but she has already begun to furnish the cottage at the edge of the estate. She hasn’t actually said it out loud, but I believe she intends to move into it after our wedding, to ‘give us a bit of privacy’, I suppose. It doesn’t mean that she won’t be in at all times, wanting company…and she’s already bothering me about grandkids._

_On **that** particular subject, we return to Teddy Lupin and the Potters. I want to make friends, for want of a better phrase, with the Potters. It seems to me that that would be the first step to getting Teddy to visit Mum at the Manor, and possibly reuniting my mum and her sister. Do you think it’s best? If you have a better idea, which you probably do, I’d love to hear it. I’m grasping at straws here._

_Now, I have to go. But I need a gift for Teddy, and one for the Potter brat, I suppose. Do you have any ideas? I’ve never shopped for a child. Ever. I’m at my wits’ end. Would a broom be appropriate?_

_I love you. Did I tell you that? I love you._

_DRACO_

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Astoria waltzed out of the hall, humming. Grace followed her, laughing.

“Didn’t I hear you say once, Tori, that you wouldn’t be caught dead mooning over letters like a lovesick teenager?” her friend said.

“I never supposed I’d actually be a lovesick teenager,” Astoria answered seriously. It was true. She’d always expected to marry whom her mother chose, without much of a choice herself. Love had never truly been factored into the equation.

The two girls linked arms and began walking down the hall.

“Read it to me?” Grace begged. “Please?”

“Why is it, I wonder, that girls with no love life at all seem to congregate around each other?” A cruel voice cut in.

“Are you referring to Grace and I?” Astoria said coolly.

“Hmmm,” Helena said, getting ever closer in the hall. Grace looked around nervously, noticing that there were only empty classrooms around them. The moving stairs had abandoned them, and the corridor ended in a dead end. A window, to be exact, with a window seat.

“I suppose I am,” Helena sneered. “Yes. I am.”

“Oh, I am sorry,” Astoria said. “For some reason, I had thought you were talking about yourself and your clique.”

Helena’s face twisted into an even more cruel expression.

“Story,” Grace whispered nervously. “Have you ever heard the saying, don’t poke a snake in its nest?”

“Something like that…I thought it was ‘don’t poke the crazy’.”

“This counts, I think.”

“You…” Helena’s eyes blazed with indignation as she drew her wand.

“Careful!” Astoria’s soft voice rang out through the hallway. “None of your minions are here, Nott. And…” She lifted her left hand so the diamond on it caught the light. “I have powerful friends.”

As it was there, she admired it. Just perfect…large enough and expensive enough without being garish. She smiled as she thought of Draco picking it out for her.

Helena glowered at the jewel. “You’d really be a Death Eater’s wife?” she sneered.

“I seem to remember you wanted to be,” Astoria shot back. “I suppose…if you’ll excuse me for being so crass…I won the prize.”

Helena stiffened, and Grace grabbed Astoria’s sleeve.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Astoria said. She walked past Helena, pulling Grace with her to the stairs that had mercifully appeared in the past minute or so.

They left Helena alone, looking out the stained-glass window at the end of the corridor.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_My love,_

_I would be delighted to accompany you to the Potters’ dinner. I expect you to be on your best behavior; even if Hermione Weasley-Granger is there. And I look forward to meeting Harry’s son, and, of course, your second cousin. Teddy, you say?_

_A gift really does sound apropos for the situation. A broom, for two boys raised or partially raised by a Quidditch mad man, would be perfect, but I honestly don’t think Mr. Potter would appreciate you buying a training gift for your son._

_I suggest galleons, or an IOU. Get them a tiny, figurine broom, with a note attached for their parents or for you to read to them. You can take them shopping with Mr. and Mrs. Potter, and do give them a choice about it, Draco. Ask Teddy if he’d like to go with you; I understand children like to be given a choice._

_Your mother is lovely. I admit, seeing her every morning may be difficult, but I’m sure I can manage long visits throughout the day. I’m afraid I do agree with you; we won’t be able to keep her away once there are grandchildren. I am counting down the days until I graduate, and leave for the relative freedom of home. We are still expected to take the Hogwarts Express home, never mind that our parents will have been there the day before for graduation. Will you pick me up?_

_Love, ASTORIA_

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . ..

_Definitely._

_Love, Draco_.

. . . . . . . . .. . . . . .. . . . . . . .

The Hogwarts Express blew its whistle shrilly as it pulled into the station. Draco stood, tall, proud, and unapologetic, on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters, leaning on a cane that even he had to admit was more accessory than aid.

It had been his father’s, he had confessed to Astoria in private. Something to keep him close.

Astoria was staring out of a window solemnly with Grace. The ride had been spent the same way; they were both trying to memorize the path the train took, every piece of grass it passed, every cow paddy…it was hard to believe that they wouldn’t be returning.

When the train came to a stop, the corridors and compartments were filled with the sounds of younger children complaining as they tried to pull their trunks down, and drag them to the platform.

Astoria and Grace smirked at each other, then pulled out their wands. Levitating their trunks, they moved through the crowd of squealing young ones.

“Excuse us!”

“Coming through!”

Finally, they made it to the door. Grace went out first, and Astoria followed.

“Grace,” she said breathlessly. “Watch my trunk, will you?”

With that, she abandoned her trunk and her friend, running full tilt toward the tall blond man in the middle of the station. Parents and children alike swerved out of her way, then turned to watch as she jumped into the man’s arms.

He laughed, a beautiful laugh, picking her up and twirling her around like a child. He set her down. They looked at each other for a moment, then he pulled her to him and kissed her.

There were wolf whistles and cheers as the couple greeted each other. The two could only imagine what Narcissa would have to say about it, but for now, it was their moment.

“Excuse me!” Grace said loudly, clapping. Huffing and puffing dramatically, she walked up to Draco and Astoria, trunks in tow. “Your trunk, milady,” she laughed.

“He _is_ as cute as you said,” she whispered to Astoria as an aside. Draco chuckled, and Astoria blushed as he wrapped an arm around her.

“I can take that for you, Grace, thank you,” Draco said, moving the trunk from her control to his. “Let’s find a trolley, shall we?”

“I expect to be a bridesmaid!” Grace called after them as they walked away. Astoria laughed and waved.

“Better her than Miss Nott, am I right?” Draco whispered mischievously.

Astoria laughed louder. “Oh, I have missed you,” she sighed, snuggling into his side. He squeezed closer, and the two exited Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters for the chaotic muggle world.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . .


	10. playing with matches, a girl can get burned

Draco paced in front of the floo. Astoria had come for tea, and his mother was helping her prepare for the Potters’ dinner. They had been informed that it was a first birthday celebration for James, and Draco had promptly tried to buy out the toddler section of Quality Quidditch supplies. Luckily, Astoria had talked him out of it in time, and persuaded him to instead get James a Chudley Cannons shirt, as well as a tiny training set of Quidditch balls.

“The boy probably has at least two of everything we got him,” Draco groused as they returned home. Astoria had laughed and hit him on the arm.

“You can never have too much. I’m surprised your pampered self doesn’t agree.”

He rubbed the arm she hit as he thought about that moment, and smiled. They were moving forward with wedding plans. Narcissa was beside herself, having something to plan for, and a daughter to shop for. Although he didn’t want to acknowledge its existence quite yet, he was fairly certain that his mother had started to decorate a nursery in the family wing of the manor. He shuddered. Not even married, and she was expecting grandchildren. One day, he thought. One day.

Draco was drawn from his thoughts by a quiet cough from the stairwell. Pivoting on his heel, he immediately took a step back. He stumbled, narrowly avoiding the fireplace. Astoria giggled, descending the staircase.

“I take it you like?” she smiled, spinning around. It was a very proper dress, casual yet elegant at the same time.

Draco caught her arm and pulled her into him, sweetly pressing a kiss to her lips. After a moment, he pulled away, looking into her eyes. “I do not deserve you,” he murmured.

She rolled her eyes, and kissed him again. “Yes you do,” she breathed when they broke apart. “You do.”

They stood there for a moment, frozen in happiness. “Shall we?” Draco finally said, picking up James’ present and offering his arm to Astoria. She took it, and grabbed some floo powder.

Draco took a deep breath. “Here goes nothing,” he muttered as Astoria threw the powder into the fireplace.

Astoria smiled up at him. “Grimmauld Place!” she called. Then they stepped into the floo, and were gone.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Astoria was perfect, Draco thought as he sat on a chair next to her and watched her laugh and chat with the ladies and gentlemen there. It was a bit of a Weasley clan gathering. The George Weasleys were there, the Ron Weasleys were there, the Bill Weasleys were there…Molly and Arthur were there.

And Andromeda and Teddy Tonks.

Draco’s eyes were drawn, again and again, to the dark-haired witch sitting upright with the toddler in her lap. She had grey streaks, but he could still see the Black resemblance between her and his mother. It wasn’t hard to believe that this woman was his aunt. Which made…which made the boy in her lap a second cousin.

Something of a nephew, since he was so much younger.

“Victoire, why don’t you and Teddy take the little children to the play-room?” Ginny suggested as the little girl squirmed in her mother’s lap.

The girl nodded seriously, then took Teddy’s hand. The two led a chain of children past what had once been Walburga Black’s portrait to what had been the parlor, now a children’s game room.

“I hear congratulations are in order, Miss Greengrass,” Ginny said warmly. Draco had spent so much of his childhood loathing Weasleys and Potter, but now, as an adult, he had to admire her skill at making people feel comfortable in her home.

“Oh, please, it’s Astoria,” his fiancée corrected. “And yes…Draco and I are engaged.”

“I’m sure your mother is very happy about that.”

It was the first time Andromeda spoke since they had arrived. Draco stiffened.

“Yes,” he said, clearing his throat. “She is…”

He was interrupted by Mrs. Granger-Weasley. “A pureblood, neutral during the war…what more could Narcissa ask for?”

“I beg your pardon,” Astoria said, affronted.

“Hermione,” Mrs. Potter said, quietly remonstrating the woman.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Hermione said sharply. “Isn’t that what Potters deal in? Truth?” She looked at Harry. “’I must not tell lies’, right, Harry?”

“Love - maybe now isn’t the best time…” Ron moved to place his hands on his wife’s shoulders.

Potter rubbed his temples. “Care to join me for a glass of brandy?” he invited the men into the other room. Squeezing Astoria’s hand, Draco moved into the other room, looking back every few steps at his fiancée, a snake in a lion’s den.

Potter shut the divider between them with finality. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his forehead.

“Sorry, mate…” Ron said. “She’s…she’s…I don’t know what she’s trying to do.”

“Oh, I don’t know, divide Ginny and I? Break us apart? Did you hear that ‘I must not tell lies’ bullshite?”

Draco looked back and forth between the two men uneasily. It seemed there was something more going on underneath the surface than he had seen.

“Is there something I’m missing here?” he asked abruptly, putting his hands behind his back.

All of the men in the room turned to face him. He felt his lungs shrivel, but refused to back down.

“Tell us what you think you’re missing,” Harry finally said tiredly.

“Trouble in paradise.” Draco tsked. “I thought your lives were supposed to be perfect now that the devil is gone.”

“Well, they’re not,” Ron snapped. “You tell him,” he said to Harry, flopping down into a chair.

“Okay, well…I guess, the most important thing here, is that Ginny knows everything I’m about to tell you.” He took a seat in a chair as well, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. All around the room, the Weasley men got comfortable, as if they had heard this story before and knew it took a while.

“After the war, you know…everything was…strange. Very strange. Because, you know, we had been fighting this monster our whole lives. Without him…well, a lot of us had trouble trying to find our purpose. We had a summer, where all of us were at the Burrow, and we were…we were grieving, and trying to find a way to move ahead. It was actually at your trial that I got my idea…I decided to take my N. E. W. T.s through the Ministry, then apply to the Auror program. Ron decided to do it with me. Hermione had lost her parents…she said the memory charm was too hard to undo without risking permanent damage, and her parents were happy as they were, so she decided to leave them.”

Harry sighed heavily. “She returned to school with Ginny. Returning to something she knew…all of us were scared of the big, wide, world for a while there. Ginny and I…we weren’t exactly dating, but we weren’t _not_ together, if that makes sense. Both of us just gave the other a safe place. And Ron and Hermione were still circling at that point.”

He leaned back, appraising Draco. “Hermione and I, though, we were out of touch for a while. Then one day, out of the blue, she Floo’d through McGonagall’s floo to Grimmauld Place, crying and sobbing and having hysterics. Something about running into an old enemy being tortured by other students.”

Draco flinched, looking away.

“It’s not your fault,” Harry said quietly. “It’s not your fault. Hermione was emotional, and suddenly she was kissing me. She wanted to go farther, but she wasn’t thinking straight…and for me, she wasn’t Ginny. That was actually when I realized I wanted to be with Ginny, for real. I pushed her off of me, and she got mad, saying that I never appreciated her, and…she wasn’t thinking straight. She went back through the floo, and I told Ron what had happened.”

Weasley bowed his head. “I’m second best,” he mumbled. “She wanted Harry, but he didn’t want her, so I’m second best, but I love her…so I’ll take what I get.”

Draco looked at him, wondering how he could be so…so…so not jealous of his best friend, who his wife had wanted.

“She wanted my name, my influence.” Harry said. “A bit of a social climb, maybe. She wasn’t thinking straight…”

“You keep saying that,” Draco interrupted.

“It’s the truth,” Harry protested.

“Maybe that’s the real Hermione,” Draco shrugged. “I mean…looking at what happened in the other room…”

The two men looked away. “She’s changed.” George Weasley unfolded himself from the wall, looking at his brother and brother-in-law. “That was the beginning. Tell him the rest.”

“She got…nasty…when I told her no. She told me she’d tell Ginny, and Molly, and the Auror department, that she’d say I knocked her up. I…I went to Hogwarts that weekend, and told Ginny everything. I also told her I wanted to go on a date. She accepted, and, well, here we are. Hermione doesn’t know I told Ginny, but she knows I told Ron and Molly.”

“And they all lived happily ever after,” Draco said in a bored voice.

“Aha, there’s the git we all know and love!” Ron shouted, guffawing. Draco looked at him disbelievingly.

Harry smiled. “Thanks for coming, Malfoy,” he said. “Just…thanks.”

“You ever want dirt on Granger-Weasley, let me know,” he said nonchalantly. “I’m sure she’s got some less than appropriate extra-curricular activities she won’t want the public knowing about.”

Harry grinned and reached his hand out. Draco shook it, and some semblance of an alliance was brokered between the childhood enemies.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Dinner was tense. That was the only word for it. Astoria stayed quiet, watching her fiancée converse with the rest of the table with an aristocrat’s ease. He and Ginny Potter kept the conversation going, and she was proud of him for doing that.

She had other thoughts to occupy her during this dinner.

Andromeda and Teddy Tonks.

Andromeda was quiet, feeding her grandson and dealing with him the way a parent would. He had changed his features to match hers as soon as he was handed off to her lap. Astoria wondered if he would change to match anyone who held him.

Draco hid it well, but he wanted to know his cousin and aunt, for more reasons than just making his mother happy. Astoria wanted to do this for him, but watching them, she saw that Andromeda would be hard to break down. Dinner flew past while she imagined different ways to break her down. Showing up at her doorstep, non-stop letters…none of them seemed fail-proof, especially when dealing with a woman who was raised in Slytherin.

Ginny was clearing the table, and Astoria was still stuck in her musings when she heard the woman arguing with her mother.

“Mum, no, you’re a guest. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Sweetie, I always have done the dishes for you. Let me help you, so you can rest and keep company with your guests.”

“It’s fine, Mum. Here.” Ginny passed James to Mrs. Weasley. “Watch James for me, will you?”

“Ginny…” Molly protested half-heartedly. But her daughter had already won, and was clearing the table. James pointed toward the playroom imperiously. Molly followed her grandson’s commands, mentally preparing herself to play house for the next hour.

Astoria got up, and picked up the plates from her side of the table. Patting Draco on the shoulder, she followed Ginny to the kitchen.

The woman was coming back out to the dining room when she ran into Astoria, carrying the rest of the plates she had been planning to go pick up.

“Can I help?” Astoria asked sweetly. “I can’t do much, or very well, I imagine, but I find company helps sometimes.”

“Thank you,” Ginny smiled at the woman. They went into the kitchen, where Astoria set the dishes to wash, and Ginny prepared to dry.

“Can…can I ask you an odd question?” Ginny asked her. Astoria nodded, making eye-contact with the older woman.

“Did…was…how did you like dinner? I noticed you were quiet,” Ginny said.

“I was,” Astoria admitted. “I was dealing with a bit of a conundrum. Draco wants to reunite his mother with her sister, and he wants a place in Teddy’s life.” She stole a glance at Ginny, wondering if it was okay for her to be telling a Potter all of this.

Ginny nodded. “Andromeda is lonely,” she said softly. “She’s isolated, a bit, in her old cottage. Send some invitations, then send Narcissa. If she doesn’t take no for an answer, well, I think it’d be easy to get Andie to change her mind.”

Astoria nodded thoughtfully. The two women watched the sponges scrub and the towel dry in silence for a few moments.

“Was there anything…off?” Ginny asked. “About the dinner, I mean,” she hastened to add.

Astoria took a deep breath. “You’re not close with any of your sisters-in-law,” she said in a rush.

Ginny stiffened. “I’m not?” she asked. 

Astoria didn’t respond, waiting. They were quiet a few more minutes. “I’m not,” Ginny finally stated.

“I find it hard…in a large family, everything is built in. Your brothers and their wives are your best friends, and they think you’re a bit crazy when you make friends elsewhere. Angelina’s nice enough, but she’s good friends with Katie, and Fleur talks more with her and Hermione. Hermione…we were friends, but then she…” she stopped and looked at Astoria, who was giving her all her attention.

“Draco’s heard it already, I bet. He’ll tell you. Husbands don’t keep much from their wives, and what they do keep a secret the wives find out anyway.”

Both of them laughed at that. “If you ever needed to talk,” Astoria offered, “I’ll be at Malfoy Manor.”

“And if you ever need to talk,” Ginny countered, “I’m here.”

“You just won yourself and your husband an invitation to the wedding,” Astoria laughed. Ginny smiled.

“I’ll be sure to leave the toddler at home.”

The kitchen doors banged open, and Hermione came in with a determined look. “Oh, hello, Ginny, Harry was just looking for you,” she said, slouching against a cabinet. “Something about James.”

Ginny eased herself to her feet, and smiled tightly. “I’ll go see what he needs.” She left Astoria with a smirking Hermione.

“Thank you,” Astoria said before Hermione could say anything.

The other woman looked nonplussed. “For what?”

“For saving Draco that day,” Astoria said. “I think it’s best to tell you that before you go on with whatever you plan on saying to me. I find it hard to believe it’s congratulations on my wedding.”

“But that’s just what it is,” Hermione said softly, her eyes glistening. “I remember being a bride. I hope your experience is so much better than mine was. And…” she paused, for dramatic effect. “I was wondering if you’d like to come to tea someday.”

Astoria smiled blandly. “I don’t know when I’ll next be free, but perhaps you can be one of the first I call on as Mrs. Malfoy.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed and anger flashed across her face briefly before she smoothed it away. “Of course,” she said. “That would be wonderful.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“That was interesting,” Astoria said later, as she absent-mindedly stroked Draco’s hair, his head in her lap.

“Indeed,” he agreed. “Very.”

“I have a game plan,” she continued. “For your mum and Andromeda.”

“Wonderful.” He was very close to falling asleep.

“Oh, and I invited the Potters to our wedding.”

“What?” he ejaculated, jolting upright. “You did what?!”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	11. lucky bride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> weddings <3

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_Mr. and Mrs. Hyperion Greengrass_

_AND_

_Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy_

_INVITE YOU TO WITNESS THE NUPTIALS OF_

_Mr. Draco Malfoy_

_AND_

_Miss Astoria Greengrass_

Andromeda Tonks stared at the owl that had arrived the day before. She had put it off long enough. Sighing, she took out a piece of paper. In the elegant handwriting her mother had taught her, she began to pen her RSVP.

Once it was done, she attached it to her owl’s leg.

“Gramma, can I send it?” Teddy squeaked. She smiled at her grandson, and handed the owl to him.

“Of course, darling,” she said. “Would you like to help send the next one too?”

With that, she pulled out a piece of red paper, and began a Howler, to send to Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Draco walked down the spacious hallway, carrying the post in a hand. A letter to Narcissa from one of her committee women had accidentally been delivered to him. At least, he thought it was an accident. It was a letter describing a perfect baby crib the woman had seen in Diagon Alley.

He was almost to his mother’s sitting room when he heard wild laughter echoing down the hall. He tensed. The laughter was horrifyingly reminiscent of Bellatrix’s maniacal hysterics. He began to run.

Reaching the door, Draco burst through to find his mother sitting next to the remains of a Howler, laughing.

“Mother?” he asked hesitantly. “Are you all right?”

“Oh,” she hiccupped. “I haven’t laughed that hard in so long. She hasn’t changed one bit. Your Aunt Andromeda will be coming to your wedding, Draco.”

Draco relaxed, relieved it wasn’t worse.

“And she will be bringing your younger cousin.”

His eyes widened. “The toddler?” he asked, horrified.

Narcissa nodded, wiping her eyes. “Teddy,” she confirmed.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . .

_…I’m so glad that you’ll be coming, Teddy will be coming as will with Andromeda. Draco is beside himself, he’s worried that the boy will start crying or otherwise being loud during the ceremony. Frankly, I don’t see the problem. If you wanted, you could bring James, and we could set up a little play area for them. Warded, of course, against accidental magic, and closed so that they won’t be able to get out. I am looking forward to seeing you there!_

_Astoria Greengrass_

Ginny folded up her latest correspondence from Astoria, and looked across at the woman who had come, uninvited, for tea.

“Who is it from?” Hermione asked politely.

“Astoria Greengrass,” Ginny replied, offering Hermione some sugar. “She was telling me that Teddy would be at her wedding, and that it would be okay if I brought James.”

“You were invited?” Hermione said incredulously.

“Of course,” Ginny said, sipping her tea. “We’re great friends, Astoria and I.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Astoria stood in front of a full-length mirror, gazing at the pretty picture she made in her wedding robes. They were white, with gold runes that spoke of love and happiness and life embroidered along the edges.

“Beautiful,” her sister, Daphne Jefferson, said. Her sister, married with two kids to a rich American wizard, had made the trip over the sea for her sister’s wedding.

Astoria turned to her sister. “Were you scared?” she asked. 

Daphne looked at her sister, stroking her hair. “Everyone’s nervous, a little bit,” she acceded. “It’s permanent, Astoria…for the rest of your life.”

“I know.” Astoria shuddered, looking back to the mirror.

“Hey,” Daphne said. “For what it’s worth, he loves you.”

“Does he?” Astoria said quietly. “Is it love?”

Daphne laughed. “Astoria,” she said. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. He was a perfect gentleman. When he wasn’t talking, he was watching you talk. I think it is.”

Astoria smiled waterily. “An end of an era,” she whispered.

“The beginning of another,” Daphne answered, wrapping her arms around her sister’s shoulders. “An end, and a beginning. It’s what all weddings are.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Narcissa had a front row seat to her son’s wedding. She had difficulty keeping an appropriately solemn face, especially when she wanted to beam.

Everything was coming into place today. Her son was getting married, and by the looks of it, he was wildly in love with his bride.

She watched as the Ministry official bonded the two, who couldn’t keep their eyes off each other. Magic surged around them, and she wished that Lucius could be here to see it. Love always conquers. Well, not always, but in this case, it certainly did.

She peeked at the woman at her side. Andromeda sat primly, but the wrinkles around her eyes suggested she wanted to be smiling as well. Teddy was in the play area, with James. Five years ago, she wouldn’t have believed it if someone said she would be attending her son’s wedding, with Andromeda and Harry Potter.

“I do.”

“I do.”

The ceremony was final, and bonding. The two were bonded for life.

As Draco kissed his bride, Harry Potter wolf-whistled, to the consternation of his wife. Narcissa and Ginny shared a look that said: men. You can’t live with them, can’t live without them.

Astoria and Draco were wrapped around each other, wholly unaware of the world around them.

At long last, they pulled apart. Draco whooped and swung Astoria around. She giggled.

“Not entirely proper, Mr. Malfoy,” she said demurely.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” he said, grinning happily, “I don’t give a damn.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The receiving line was endless, or so Draco felt. He and Astoria smiled until their faces hurt, and shook so many hands, hugged so many people. Finally, it was just him, his wife, and his mother.

“Astoria!” Mr. Greengrass puffed, rushing up to them. “It’s time…for the father-daughter dance.”

Smiling at her husband, Astoria took her father’s hand and followed him to the dance floor, leaving Draco and Narcissa standing under the bower.

“I’m glad you’re happy, Draco,” Narcissa said, looking up at her son.

“Had to marry, didn’t I?” Draco asked with no ire.

“No, you didn’t,” Narcissa said quietly.

“Although, I’m glad I did,” Draco continued. He stopped, and backpedaled. “Wait, what?”

Narcissa smiled up at her son, and patted him on the cheek. “Remind me to show you your father’s will one day,” she said, before moving away toward the Greengrasses.

Draco stood there a moment, confused. Shaking himself, he pushed the moment away. Whatever his mother had done, it didn’t matter now. Turning, he moved toward his bride, who was waiting on the dance floor for him.

Amid cheers, he pulled her to him as a slow song came on.

“Well, Mr. Malfoy, how has your wedding been so far?” Astoria asked as she spun around in his arms.

“Quite pleasant,” Draco replied, smirking. “And you, Mrs. Malfoy?”

“It couldn’t be better.” Astoria smiled blissfully, closing her eyes.

“I do love you, you know,” Draco said suddenly, and Astoria opened her eyes to see him looking at her seriously.

“Do you really?” she asked, vulnerable.

“I do,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I do.”

“And I love you,” she said. “I love you.” She laughed. “And they all lived happily ever after!” she shouted into the crowd. There were a few amused chuckles, and she tucked her head into Draco’s shoulder.

“A happy ending,” he mused. “For a Death Eater. For me.”

“Well, you were pardoned,” Astoria said. “And I am one of a kind. Now all we have to do is walk off into the sunset.”

The couple smiled into each other’s eyes. “If that is what you wish, it shall be done, my dear,” Draco said, half-jokingly.

“I don’t need to wish anymore,” Astoria said. “I have everything I want.”

And they did indeed live happily ever after.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	12. happily ever after

“Ugh,” Astoria said, disgusted, as they moved onto Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. The steam from the Hogwarts Express had spilled over the Platform, obscuring it in white smoke. “It wasn’t like this last time, was it?”

Draco wrapped an arm around his wife, and they pushed the trolley forward. “I don’t think so, no,” he said.

“It was a little bit,” Cassiopeia, their eldest, said. “But not this much, I don’t think.” Their daughter walked sedately by their side, one hand on her trunk, which had almost slid off the trolley in the station.

“Scorpius, settle down,” Astoria smiled at her youngest, her son. “You’ll be there soon enough.”

“Daddy’s got a bet with Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron,” Scorpius said excitedly, bouncing around his family. “He says we’re both going to be in Slytherin, and Al will be in Gryffindor, but Uncle Harry says Cassie will be in Slytherin, and me and Al will be in Gryffindor, and Uncle Ron says we’ll all be in Gryffindor, but Rose will be in Ravenclaw. James says that he doesn’t care, but if I’m in Gryffindor we could come up with some good pranks for the Slytherins. Rose says…”

“All right, all right,” Draco chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll all be friends, no matter what house you’re in.”

“Dad, who will be called first to be sorted? Because we’re both Malfoy, but I’m older, so I should be called first,” Cassiopeia said seriously.

“Seven minutes, Cassie!” Scorpius shouted, his face reddening. “Seven bloody minutes!”

“Language!” Astoria said, shocked. She sent a glare at her husband, who held his hands up apologetically. “That’s your fault, you know. If he talks like this in front of your mother…” Astoria shook her head.

“She’d laugh and ask him if he wanted another cookie,” Draco snorted.

Astoria sighed as she took Draco’s arm, watching Scorpius stare at the huge red train. He backed up so he was leaning against his parents.

“That’s a big train,” he said in awe. The Malfoys smiled at their son’s innocence.

“Scorp,” Draco said suddenly, “Where’s your sister?”

“Oh, she went to find Al,” Scorpius said nonchalantly. “They’re over there.”

Draco looked where Scorpius was pointing, and saw the Weasleys and the Potters there, Cassie and Albus talking like the old friends they were. Ron and Hermione were arguing good naturedly. Draco nodded at Harry sharply. The man nodded back, and the Malfoys started walking over.

“Does it get easier?” Astoria asked Ginny, running her hands through Scorpius’ hair.

“You get used to it,” Ginny said. “I, for one, can’t wait until Lily goes off. It’ll be nice to have some peace and quiet.”

“I’m sure Narcissa will keep you company when you’re lonely,” Draco hummed in his wife’s ear.

Astoria put a hand over her slowly swelling belly. “It’ll be quiet, but I have something to prepare for.”

Ginny smiled at her friend. “That reminds me; I was in Flourish and Blotts, and they have a new series, Designer something or other, and one of them was for babies. Maybe we could go visit sometime.”

“I always need new ideas,” Astoria said happily.

The Malfoys stepped back to say their own goodbyes, as the Potters and Weasleys said theirs.

“Gryffindor, Slytherin, it doesn’t matter,” Draco said seriously to his children. “Don’t let your House affiliation divide you too much, okay?”

The twins nodded solemnly.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Too soon, their children were all on board, and the train was pulling out of the station, all of the children waving wildly.

Astoria moved to stand next to Ginny and Harry, Draco following behind her.

“I do hope you won’t mind too much having a son in Slytherin,” she said.

“Al will be in Gryffindor,” Harry said confidently.

“Let’s make a side bet,” Draco said dryly. “Ten galleons says your son is a Slytherin.”

Harry chuckled. “Ten galleons say your son is a Gryffindor.”

“Done,” Draco smirked. “I hope you have twenty galleons.”

Astoria and Ginny rolled their eyes together.

“I have absolute confidence that Al will be going to whichever house Scorpius and Cassie are sorted into,” Ginny said quietly. “They’ve always been close.”

“You don’t think he’ll try to follow Rose?” Astoria asked, laughing derisively.

“Nope,” Ginny said, popping the P.

“Well, let’s head home, and wait for a letter,” Astoria sighed. “I can feel the quiet already.”

“Come along, Lily!” Ginny called.

Together, the Potters and Malfoys exited Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Later…

“I knew it!” Draco crowed. “I knew it, I knew it!” He danced around the parlor, holding Cassiopeia’s letter in one hand. Astoria, sitting on the sofa, held Scorpius’.

“Potter owes me twenty galleons!” Draco laughed. “I knew they’d all end up in Slytherin.”

He slid on the floor, kneeling next to Astoria and pressing an ear to her belly.

“What about you, Betelgeuse?” Draco said to her baby bump. “You going to be Slytherin too?”

“Betelgeuse?” Astoria said, horrified. “No!”

“It has to be a star name,” Draco said to her.

“And have we run out of good ones yet?” She shuddered. “I think not!”

“Fine,” Draco relented. “Canis Majoris.”

“Altair.”

“Polaris.”

“Rigel.”

“Done,” Draco kissed his wife. “Rigella for a girl.

Astoria laughed. “We’ll face that possibility later.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

.

.

**And they all lived Happily Ever After.**

**.**

**~Finis~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to all those who have read or reviewed! i appreciate you <33


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